


An Insignificant Problem

by Sarah_Sandwich



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: A Smidgeon of Irondad, Babysitter Harley Keener, De-Aged Peter Parker, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Jealous Harley, Peter Parker Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Sandwich/pseuds/Sarah_Sandwich
Summary: Peter gets de-aged and for some reason his toddler self doesn't seem to like Harley very much.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 245





	An Insignificant Problem

“Don’t hurt him!”

“I’m not hurting him! Calm down!”

“He doesn’t like it! Let him go!”

“Peter, I swear to God if you don’t get off of—,”

“Give him back!”

_“Peter!”_

Harley’s chair topples as the weight of the super-powered four-year-old’s body slams against it. Stupidly, he cradles the stuffed Elmo protectively against his chest and lands hard, flat on his back. All the air punches out of his lungs and for a long moment, all he can do is lay there in shock until his lungs remember how to pull in air.

“Oh no! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he wheezes.

“Not _you,”_ Peter says with all the vitriol his four-year-old self can muster. “Elmo doesn’t like you. Give him back.”

Wordlessly, Harley hands over the stupid Elmo, no longer caring that the batteries are dead. Peter can have the stupid dead toy if it means a moment of peace.

Peter scrambles up the wall and stands upside-down on the ceiling, safely out of reach, and gives Elmo a hard shake. “He’s not talking! Why isn’t he talking?!”

He closes his eyes. He can’t do this. He can’t.

The elevator dings, announcing a new arrival to the penthouse and he nearly cries. _Very_ nearly. Then Tony enters the living room and his eyes mist up.

“Hey there, Peter-Peter Pumpkin Eater,” Tony coos, instantly spotting him on the ceiling. “Were you a good boy for Harley?”

“Harley was mean to Elmo and now Elmo won’t talk!” Peter exclaims, scurrying down the wall before launching into Tony’s arms.

Tony grunts on impact, but catches him without issue.

“Oh?” Tony says, smirking at Harley with an amused twinkle in his eyes as he straightens up with Peter on his hip.

“You can’t do that,” Harley says from the floor. “It’s been like 30 minutes. You can’t start calling him cutesy toddler names.”

“Just think of how embarrassed he’s going to be when we get him aged up again,” Sam says, bypassing Tony to collapse on the couch with a sigh.

“Fair point,” he agrees, not with a small amount of vindictiveness.

It’s been the worst half-hour of his life. Peter seems to remember everyone except him. Which is _stupid_ and doesn’t make any sense because he didn’t know Tony or the other Avengers when he was this young so why is it that he seems fond and happy to see all of them but he treats Harley like a nanny that has fallen out of his favor? He hates to admit it, but it hurts.

“What did Strange say?”

“Something along the lines of, ‘I’m off-world for the foreseeable future, figure out your insignificant problems on your own’.”

Harley’s stomach drops to his toes. He sits up. “Are you serious? So he’s stuck like this until whenever Strange comes back?”

“Nah,” Sam says. “We talked to Wong and he said it should wear off on its own. Usually lasts a few hours.”

He groans and flops back. He can’t handle Peter as a toddler for _any_ number of hours. He could hardly stand him for the _minutes_ he’s already suffered.

“Don’t worry,” Tony says, “you’ll have your boyfriend back in no time. For now, Petey-Pie has a play date with Miss Morguna that she is _very_ excited about.”

“Yay!” Peter cheers. He doesn’t so much as wave goodbye over Tony’s shoulder as he’s carried off down the hall.

Sam clicks his tongue in the silence that descends in their wake. “Jealous of a toddler. Not a good look, man. Not a good look.”

“Shut up.”

~*~

“Harley.”

“Harley, wake up.”

He flinches back from the sticky finger that pokes his cheek and blinks blearily down at little doe-eyed Peter with his mop of curls and pudgy cheeks standing beside his bed in a borrowed pair of Morgan’s Spider-Man pajamas.

“Ev’rythin’ okay?” he asks, tongue thick with sleep.

“Can I sleep with you?” Peter asks, an anxious tightness to his mouth that’s familiar from his adult-self.

“‘Course,” he says. He scoots back and is surprised when Peter doesn’t hesitate to climb in bed and curl up against his chest, clutching his t-shirt tight in his little fist. He curls his arm around Peter’s back and he relaxes. “You sure you’re okay?”

Peter nods against his chest. “Just wanna be normal again,” he says, voice small. “Feels wrong like this.”

Harley frowns, his heart rate escalating as his mind jumps to the worst conclusions. Is his Spider-sense trying to tell him something? Is it the spell? Is he going to de-age further rather than reverting back to normal? What if Peter blips out of existence without warning?

Peter puts a hand over his heart and rubs it in little circles like how he’s seen May do against Peter’s back when he’s stressed. “No scared, Harley.”

“Sorry. What feels wrong, Pete?”

There’s a long pause where Peter doesn’t answer, then he finally says, “You. Me. I don’t… I just wanna go back to normal.”

His chest caves in around his heart. _“I_ feel wrong?” What is this? Is he getting broken up with by a four-year-old? What the _fuck?_ He pulls away and sits up. “You don’t have to be in here with me if I make you uncomfortable. Tony—,”

“No!” Peter exclaims, sitting up as well. “No, you don’t—” He makes a frustrated sound and hits the bed. “I miss you!”

“I’m right here, Pete,” he tells him, desperately lost. “I’m not going anywhere, buddy.”

“I _know._ That’s not what I mean! I remember, okay?” he says, staring up at him with wide serious eyes. “I remember how it was before and I don’t want any of that yucky stuff.”

Harley stares at him. “Pete, I’m not gonna _kiss you_ while you’re a fucking four-year-old. That is literally the last thing you need to be worried about.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asks, eyes dark and wide.

Harley can’t help but laugh, relief coursing through him like a drug. “Yeah, bud. I’m a hundred percent sure. A _thousand_ percent. That’s not— No.”

His bottom lip puckers out in a way that’s unfairly adorable. “Not even the forehead kind like Aunt May does?”

“Only if you ask me to. Is this why you were such a little shit to me earlier?”

Peter’s chin drops to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

He ruffles his hair. “I forgive you, but when you get big again I’m gonna give you hell for it. It’s only fair.”

Peter pouts up at him again. “No, Harley, please? I’ll be nice now, I promise. I won’t even hog the blankets.”

He snorts. Somehow, at this size, he doesn’t think he could hog the blankets if he tried. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook this time. C’mon, let’s sleep. I bet when you wake up you’ll be a real boy again.”

They lay down and Peter retakes his place against Harley’s chest, clutching his shirt. “Harley?”

“Yeah?”

“I want a forehead one now.”

“‘Course, sweetheart.”

~*~

The next time he wakes up is to a ripping sound and a weight sinking into the bed beside him as the little body under his arm expands.

He lurches to a sitting position and Peter, his adult boyfriend, blinks up at him.

“Oh thank fuck!” Peter exclaims. He rips up the blanket and groans. “Morgan’s gonna kill me.”

“Peter.”

Peter turns to face him, eyes wide with worry at his serious tone. “Yeah?”

“We’re never having kids.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @sarah-sandwich


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